American Novelist
At 1:38 a.m. today, I turned 56 years old. The thing is, I don’t feel fifty-six. Maybe this is because, for the past ten years, I’ve been writing about characters 16–17 years old and some of their sense of invincibility has rubbed off on me. All I know is, it really doesn’t seem possible that … Read more
Two years ago today, I was in Paris. I was there for two weeks, and I loved it. Loved it so much that when I returned, I wrote a memoir about the experience. Following are two of the sketches from the memoir. I might publish the book of them sometime, but for now I hope … Read more
I miss sitting in a cafe, sipping my cafe creme and writing, with no one looking at me strangely for it. I miss walking the streets alone at dawn, but never feeling alone because I had all of Paris around me. I miss leaning on the bridge railings and gazing out across the shimmering Seine … Read more